


In Perfect Harmony

by Acting4Hope



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Falling In Love, Gen, M/M, Musicians, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, kravitz is a pianist and taako is trying his best
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-08 18:27:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12259713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acting4Hope/pseuds/Acting4Hope
Summary: Kravitz is a musical-genius that somehow ends up working gigs at an old bar. Taako is a up-start entrepreneur/chef who is just trying to scrape up a few extra dollars. In the low light of the stage, two melodies meet.





	1. Opening Pitches

**Author's Note:**

> AKA The Story of How Music Makes Everything Better and Also Gay 
> 
> This is a modern musician AU that has no real reason to be here, other than I thought of it while doing my homework, like, 2 weeks ago and haven't been able to shake it since. I have the first two chapters prepared beforehand, but I don't really have a set schedule as to when I'll be updating. I'll try to not make you guys wait too long, but I'm very busy so!! 
> 
> Also, the first song Taako and Kravitz play together [is this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJwjLYRPxJY) and it's the only song I had thought up for their performance so....make up whatever else they play, idk. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!

Music was always a passion for Kravitz. From the exact moment he pressed a key down on his toddler-piano, to his graduation performance, Kravitz has found a way to weave music into every little bit of his life.

 

As a child, he learned as many instruments as his chubby fingers could allow; and, by fourth grade, he was in both the choir and the band. From that point on, he played in any music ensemble he could get into, and then he turned his sights to conducting. By the eighth grade, Kravitz was essentially a scrawny Beethoven; writing his own pieces and conducting the band on the days the band director was absent. In high school, he did _everything_ music-related; marching band, jazz band, concert band, concert choir, show choir, district choir, district band, pit band, pep band, and so on and so forth. He even tried performing in the musical; though, after a particularly rough performance involving too many nerves and a _very_ bad Cockney accent, Kravitz decided he was more fit for the instrumental roles.

 

He had a goal for himself, senior year: Apply to the most prestigious music college in the country and be accepted. Which, to no one’s surprise, he managed to accomplish! It only came at the expense of not enough financial aid to cover the difference. So Kravitz had to take a step down from that goal and work toward his second goal; getting accepted into the _second_ most prestigious music college in the country. They offered him a full-ride, which was fantastic, and he accepted the offer with a big, weepy smile. On graduation day, Kravitz performed for the last time in front of his peers, and took a gracious bow when everyone in attendance erupted into applause.

 

Kravitz’s life was paved through hard times and lots of stress, but now he was _finally_ getting somewhere. From here, he would go off to college, get his degree in Music Conduction, and join the ranks of the greats as he conducted for world-class orchestras all across the country. It was all nearly there; he just had to reach out and _touch it_ , and all his dreams would be _his_.

 

And then those dreams were ripped right from his hands at the sudden passing of his mother.

 

\---

 

Now Kravitz is here, standing backstage of an old bar with an audience of drunk old-timers waiting beyond the curtain.

 

This isn’t where Kravitz had wanted to end up; not at all. But nothing was ever the same after…

 

Kravitz shakes his head to rid himself of those depressing thoughts and focuses on his breathing. No need to get into that can of worms before a show. Speaking of the show, Kravitz feels a light tap on his shoulder and turns to see one of the bartender-slash-stage-runners, Ren, smiling at him.

 

“Ya ready?” She whispers, her Southern accent rimming her words with a sort of down-home comfort. Kravitz smiles back at her and nods, watching as she walks back around toward the front of the bar to cue to lights guy. Ren is a sweet woman, maybe only a year or so younger than Kravitz, who sets her goals high and alway keeps her attitude positive. Kravitz wishes, sometimes, that he had her enthusiasm for life; no matter what her circumstances became, Ren always seems to brush it off with a laugh and a witty piece of advice from her “Grandpappy”.

 

The low rumble of people chatting outside quiets, which is Kravitz’s cue to step out on stage. The stage lights are dimmer than traditional ones (given the fact that they’ve probably been the same lights used at this bar for over a decade), so Kravitz is able to make out the faces of the people in the audience. It’s a Tuesday night, so it’s mainly regulars around, and they all clap as Kravitz makes his way over to the grand piano pushed to the stage left corner of the small stage. He isn’t playing tonight solo, as he was told by Ren earlier this evening, but the second performer has not made their way onto the stage yet. Matter of fact, Kravitz has not seen the other performer _at all_ tonight; a fact Ren giggled at and simply said, “He likes his dramatics.”

 

Kravitz is not going to complain about a person who enjoys their dramatics, though. He would consider himself a man of drama; if the way-too-fancy two-piece suit he was wearing right now was any indication. But Kravitz has things to _do_ , and he would rather this just be done and over with. Not that he doesn’t enjoy his time playing, but he has an early shift tomorrow and would like to sleep a little before that.

 

There is the sound of a mic being turned on and tapped, before Ren’s voice is playing through the speakers.

 

“Ladies and gents, I hope y’all’re ready for a good show tonight, ‘cause this one’s boutta be a doozy,” Ren announces as Kravitz’s posture immediately snaps into position. It’s unnecessary, given the crowd, but old habits die hard. “As you can see, we got a crowd favorite playin’ tonight; everyone give a hand to Kravitz!” The crowd erupts into applause once more, and Kravitz lets a small smile grace his features as he gives a small nod toward the audience.

 

“Tonight though, we got someone new gracin’ the stage. He’s a real sucker for an audience, so make sure you give your warmest welcome to our singer tonight: Taako!” As Ren’s voice cuts, the stage lights dim; two spotlights training their sights on Kravitz and the microphone stand sitting centerstage. Kravitz ignores the change in mood lighting in favor of his sheet music, waiting patiently for “Taako” to emerge so he could begin playing. The crowd is dead silent, and then there is the sound of heels clicking across the stage. Kravitz turns his head to look for his cue, and when he does, it’s almost as if his heart stops.

 

Because in front of the mic stands the most _beautiful_ man Kravitz has _ever_ seen in his _life_.

 

He’s wearing a wine-red evening gown with a lace pattern and a little bit of a train. He’s tall, maybe two or three inches taller than Kravitz, with a curvy, round frame that is accentuated by the tightness of his gown. He’s got long, curly hair; a dark brown at his roots, flowing downward into a pastel pink. The parts of skin that Kravitz can see are a tanned color that seems to glow in the spotlight. His wrists are adorned with gold bracelets and bangles, with a variety of rings on both hands. His ears are also littered with piercings, the most dazzling of which being a set of large, ruby studs on his earlobes. His face is obscured by the spotlight and angle at which he is staring, but Kravitz is fine with simply ogling at the rest of him.

 

Then Kravitz hears a small cough, and his eyes flick up to the man’s--Taako’s--face; who is now looking back at Kravitz. His face is round but not completely oval-ish; his cheekbones look to be naturally defined, and he has a strong chin. His nose is large, but rounded, and from the bridge of his nose spreading outward are a galaxy of little freckles. His eyes; accented perfectly by a lighter pink and red eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara, are a dazzling emerald green that make Kravitz feel as if he is staring directly into the gemstone itself. His lips, colored a dark red, are luscious and full; his parted mouth revealing a gap between his two front teeth.

 

And then Kravitz notices the way Taako is looking at him, with concern and slight annoyance, and he quickly whips his head back around toward his sheet music. Yep, Kravitz was _definitely_ caught staring. Well, no matter, the show must go on.

 

Kravitz plays the first few notes of the piece (an unusual choice for a piano-and-vocalist duet, but Kravitz doesn’t mind) and Taako opens his mouth to sing. Or, Kravitz _assumes_ that’s what he’s doing, because he refuses to let his eyes leave the sheet music. The song is simple, but Ren was right about one thing; Taako _sure was_ a doozy. His voice was melodious and smooth as he sang, shaping and phrasing each measure like he’s been doing it his whole life. Kravitz is quickly able to find a rhythm, swaying and moving himself around the piano bench as he plays. The first song ends, and the next begins; the two performers growing more confident as the night grew on. By the end of the third piece, Kravitz is able to look back at Taako again, and he finds his heart only lurching a _little_.

 

When Taako carries out the last note of the final piece, Kravitz is willing to play out the ending chord for as long as Taako feels like it. Then, it’s over, and Kravitz stands to take a bow. He looks over at Taako, who is blowing kisses to the crowd and generally showboating it up, and feels his pulse race. Just then, Taako looks over at Kravitz and _winks_ , his lips pulled into a sly smile. Kravitz is frozen as he feels heat creeping onto his cheeks, but he doesn’t allow himself to stay frozen for long.

 

Without another word, Kravitz runs backstage and practically out the door; remembering last-minute to collect his suitcase before leaving. He doesn’t give himself the ability to look back at Taako as he dashes out of the bar and into the street. Kravitz jogs to his car and throws himself into it, chucking his suitcase in the backseat as he pants out a few breaths. After a moment, the embarrassment of the entire situation sinks in, and Kravitz groans as he puts his head in his hands.

 

This is the first night, in the three years that Kravitz has been playing there, that he’s _ever_ acted that unprofessional. Sure, he’s dealt with his fair share of attractive performers, but he _never_ spent a solid minute just staring at them! He’s supposed to be better than this! Kravitz continues to berate himself as he turns the key into ignition, letting cold air blow in his face before the heater kicks on.

 

 _It’s not like I’ll ever see him again_ , Kravitz thinks as he pulls out onto the road and begins his twenty-minute ride home. It’s honestly a likely possibility; given Kravitz’s history with the place, he’s seen over a dozen one-time-shiners that end up moving onto different bars after seeing how laid-back the patronage is. Kravitz was probably just another blip in Taako’s life; another funny moment he can laugh about later whilst drinking a flute of champagne (as Kravitz assumes Taako does).

 

Even if he never sees Taako again, Kravitz is still left humming the song he sang on his way home; and the melody fills his dreams that night.

 


	2. Measure One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taako lingers. Ren saw this coming from a mile away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like writing Ren dialogue, simply because I like messing around with dialects. Also, I hope I'm writing Taako okay; I dunno if his dialogue is Taako™ enough or too much Taako.

The roar of the crowd is drowned out by the loud thud of Taako’s heart racing in his chest. He manages to make one final bow, now missing his stage-compatriot, and walks backstage. As soon as the darkness envelops him, he feels his face grow hot and he lets out a shaky breath.

 

That had been...certainly something.

 

“Hey, Taako!” The familiar sound of a Southern drawl causes Taako to turn his head as Ren makes her way over to him. She’s smiling, clutching her clipboard with delight as she bounds over. “The audience loves ya! Didn’t I tell ya they were gonna love you?” Taako is only half-listening, going over the events of his performance in his head.   


It was supposed to be a simple, dumb little gig to earn Taako a few extra bucks. And it was, for the most part; Taako was expecting to see a decent wad of cash from tonight’s performance, with how many people ended up attending. He told Ren, before he even got to the bar, that he was going to be making a “dramatic entrance”. Ren had laughed and told Taako he could do whatever he felt like, as long as he showed up; so Taako allowed himself the extra time to doll himself up. Lup said he looked like a lounge singer before he left, and Taako let that image play in his head as he rode the bus over to the bar. He managed to slip in unnoticed, making his way through the growing crowd as the house lights dimmed. Taako took a moment to breathe, waiting for the applause of the other performer to die down, before strutting out on stage with all the style and panache he could muster. It looked like he succeeded in that fact, as he watched a few of the audience member’s eyes widen as Taako took his position in front of the mic. He waited a moment, expecting the pianist to begin the opening chord, but no sound met his ears. With a roll of his eyes, Taako turned to quickly cue the pianist.

 

And then he got a nice drink of tall, dark, and handsome nearly falling over the bench as he ogled Taako.

 

The man was dressed to-the-nines in a crisp, black two-piece suit; with a grey dress shirt and maroon tie. His skin was dark, which contrasted beautifully with the gold wristwatch he was wearing. His face was sharp and oh so handsome; with sharp cheekbones and sculpted brows. His eyes, an unusual red color, were wide; and his full, dark lips were open involuntarily.

 

Oh yeah, he was _definitely_ checking Taako out; and Taako was _into it_.

 

But he can’t just ditch the performance to drag Mr. Handsome-Pianist backstage for a sloppy makeout sesh; he had to do this for Ren, as well as his bank account. So he let out a small cough to snap the man out of his stupor, and then turned back around to the audience.

 

The night went off without a hitch, obviously; but just as Taako was about to get his flirt on, he found his mysterious hot-pianist running off stage. That hadn’t stopped the racing of Taako’s heart when the two locked eyes, though, and Taako is still reeling from the encounter. As he numbly watches Ren’s mouth move rapidly, he realizes he’s completely missed what she’s been saying, but cannot bring himself to care over the phantom piano playing in his mind.

 

“...and then she said you could come back, if ya wanna!” Ren’s voice comes back into clarity right at the end of her story, and is now looking at Taako with an eager expression. Taako stumbles, for a moment, before assuming his usual “Chill Boy” demeanour with a shrug of his shoulders.

 

“Whatever you say, Renny,” Taako replies, hoping that would be the response Ren was looking for. Evidently, it is _not_ , and now Ren is looking at Taako with concern. Shit, he’s been caught in his lie; better maintain it for as long as possible for posterity.

 

“Taako, did you listen ta _anything_ I was just talkin’ about?” Ren asks, her eyebrows quirked up as she stares Taako down. Taako sputters, feigning offense, but mainly using the time to come up with a good excuse.

 

“W-Wha--Ren, my lovely Southern doll, _of course_ I was listening!” Taako retorts, his pitch going up as he speaks. “You were _obviously_ talking about _me_ , and then...more stuff about me, and...money…?” Ren sighs and shakes her head, and Taako feels himself deflate a little bit. Not his best attempt, but he’s also a little preoccupied. “Okay, so I _wasn’t_ listening. I was thinking about stuff…” His words trail off, allowing Ren’s curiosity to pique.

 

“About what?” Ren’s tone is excited but inquisitive as she leans forward to try and stare the truth out of him. Taako huffs, looking away from Ren and at his fingernails; his acrylics came out nice, and the ruby-colored polish he picked out went along perfectly with his ensemble.

 

“It’s nothing,” Taako responds flippantly. Ren leans in closer and Taako pointedly turns his head farther away from her. But if there’s one thing Ren knows how to do, it’s getting information out of Taako, so she crosses the personal-space barrier Taako prefers and gets very close to his face. Taako groans, leaning away from her, but she simply leans with him until Taako relents. “Okay, okay! Geez, I’ll tell you if you get out of my face! Your breath smells like cheap beer and Andie’s mints.” Ren giggles and takes one dramatic step back before bouncing impatiently on the balls of her feet. Taako huffs and turns back around, but he refuses to meet Ren’s stare. He feels bashful, which is decidedly _un_ -Taako-like.

 

“It’s, uh...aboutaboy,” Taako mutters under his breath.

 

“What was that, buddy?” Ren asks.

 

“It’saboutaguy,” Taako responds, somehow even faster than before.

 

“Gotta speak up, man.”

 

“It’sabouttheguythatplayedtonight,”

 

“Well now yer just makin’ it worse,”

 

“It’s about a guy!” Taako finally blurts out, his outburst startling Ren. “It’s about a guy-- _the_ guy--the guy with the dreads a-and the handsome face! The guy that played tonight, okay, are you happy!? Does knowing about Taako’s whole mental sitch give you some sorta--some sort of joy!? Geez, can’t a guy just check out another guy without everyone making a scene!?” The backstage is already quiet, but even if it wasn’t, the quiet that follows Taako’s outburst is enough to constrict. Taako is deciding that the floor is probably the eighth wonder of the world with his stare, while Ren is staying surprisingly neutral.

 

Just then, a big, mischievous smirk spreads across Ren’s tanned features.

 

“ _Oh_ , I figured it would be him,” Ren says matter-of-factly, conveniently looking away as Taako suddenly whips his head up. “I’ve had that guy in my sights for ya for _months_.”

 

“ _Months_!? W-Wh--” Taako sputters, “What have you been waiting for, my dude!? A-A, fuckin’, sign from the heavens!? Why didn’t you send that homeboy ol’ Taako’s way, like, ASAP??” Ren giggles innocently, bouncing back and forth on her feet.

 

“Because I wanted ya t’meet him _here_ , and _somebody_ has refused to play a gig until tonight.” Ren admits, her emphasis clearly implying what Taako has begun assuming. He takes an imposing step forward, directly into Ren’s face, and he looks at her with a cold stare.

 

“So you’re telling me,” Taako begins, “that the reason I haven’t been going to plow-town twenty-four-sev for, like, _months_ now...is because I wouldn’t play a gig…?”

 

“Uh-huh! Yer exactly right!” Ren confirms with a big grin. Taako stands stock-still for a pregnant pause, before reaching out to grasp at Ren’s shoulders. Ren was waiting for this, and she quickly evades before running away from the crazed showman. Taako takes off after her, not caring about the price of the heels he’s running in, and the two begin a wild goose-chase around the backstage area.

 

“Ren, you useless lesbian, get over here so I can shake the living crap out of you!” Taako shouts, sliding to a quick halt before he smacked right into a miscellaneous prop, before turning and sprinting. Ren barks out a laugh as she hops over a stack of boxes and makes another sharp turn.

 

“Well, this ‘useless lesbian’ is also a mastermind business-woman, and ya knew that comin’ into this, Taako!” Ren calls back. “If ya woulda said yes to my over _dozens_ of offers I’ve made for gigs in the past, maybe ya woulda met Kravitz sooner!” Taako cries out in frustration as he nearly trips for the fifth time, allowing Ren to slow down and plan out her next move. She expertly dodges a few pieces of sound equipment as she works her way behind Taako, and she watches with immense glee as Taako tries to follow her. Apparently, though, his heels are a bit too new for the old floors of the backstage, and his final skid goes an inch too far before he is sent crashing to the floor.

 

Ren gasps, her happiness instantly replaced with panic, and bounds over to her friend. She knows how much Taako spends on clothes; and, with an ensemble like this, Ren is fearing that her little chase has just cost the man a hundreds.

 

“Taako, are you okay!?” Ren asks, leaning over to check and see if Taako has acquired any cuts or scrapes. Taako responds with a low, pained groan; the noise setting off flares in Ren’s mind that something is wrong. She bends down to assess the damages, reaching a hand out to feel for any sprained limbs. Right before her hand makes contact, Taako rolls to face her and grasps her wrist roughly, and she is pulled down to the floor with a yelp.

 

“Ahah! Score one for Team Taako!” Taako announces triumphantly. Ren rolls her eyes and pries her wrist from Taako’s grasp; switching her sitting position so she’s more comfortable.

 

“Aight, aight, ya got me,” Ren concedes, “Now, waddya want from me?”

 

“The deets! The four-one-one on the the number one!” Taako cries out, grasping Ren’s shoulders to give her a shake. “What’s his star sign? Is he into dudes? Is he single? Come on, man, let Taako know how to get into this fool’s world!” Ren laughs, clearly amused by Taako’s dramatic despair.

 

“I don’t know, absolutely, and from what I know; is that all?” Ren answers, laughing again when Taako whines. “What? Did ya expect me to know _everything_ about him? His name is Kravitz; he’s 29; he lives alone in an apartment uptown, and he comes to play here every Tuesday, Friday, and Sunday.” Taako listens with a surprising amount of patience as Ren rattles off basic facts about this “Kravitz”; how he’s been playing here for three years, his day-job is apparently “a god-awful prison” that he can’t quit because of financial constraints, and how he might possibly own a pet raven? But Ren isn’t one-hundred-percent positive that that statement is true, it’s just something she’s heard from her boss.

 

“Oh! By the way, he’s friends with the owner here.” Ren states, rising to her feet and retrieving her forgotten clipboard. “So I’d suggest seein’ her for any more details. ‘Cause it’s been, like, a half hour; and I’m pretty sure Avi’s gonna kill me if I have him man the bar alone fer any longer.” She walks away, shouting a “See ya, bud!” as she disappears out of sight.

 

Taako, from his position on the ground, sighs and slowly rises to his feet. Going to the owner was a good idea, but she was honestly a little terrifying; and Taako was not about to have word spread around that he’s pining over a guy. Which he’s not, by the way. He’s barely spoke with him; he only knows his first name and some basic facts. So of course he’s not pining. Of course. That’d be ridiculous.

 

Taako’s simply...intrigued. Yes, that’s the word, intrigued. He’s not pining; he just wants to know more. Because he’s attractive, and Taako’s trying to get laid, obviously. It’s not that the sight of him made Taako’s heart lurch, or that when he looked back at Taako it made Taako’s knees go weak. It’s not because of any of that. And it’s _certainly_ not because Taako’s heart is still beating rapidly at the thought of this “Kravitz”, and the memory of his music has still not left Taako’s head.

 

That’s not why at all; don’t be stupid.

 

Taako brushes off some stray sawdust from his dress and makes his way out of the bar, decidedly avoiding Ren’s knowing smirk as he passes the bar on his way out. He texts his sister, Lup, to come pick him up before waiting on a bench just outside the bar. The cold air seeps through the thin layers of Taako’s outfit, but he barely registers the cold as he thinks of stunning red eyes, a sharp two-piece suit, and crisp notes played on ivory keys.


	3. Quarter Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kravitz is distracted. Taako is avoiding the question. Both have an audience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if y'all have caught on yet, but all the chapter titles are gonna be music related! Because why not! This title sorta kinda won't make sense unless you put together that a quarter rest is a short break, and the two boys are having like a break away from each other for a day. So yeah, short break, quarter rest, y'all see what I'm sayin. 
> 
> Anyway! This took a while, sorry, but I am so super happy that you guys are enjoying this! All the feedback I have seen is incredible and I am excited that you guys are excited! This chapter's kinda short (I rlly just wanted to get Raven and Lup in the picture since they will essentially be the forces that push Taako and Kravitz together, but also I just love them so) but next chapter will be a lot longer with a lot more action goin on! 
> 
> Idk when the next chapter will be out bc I am absolutely swarmed with work and college apps and essays, but I hope you enjoy!

Kravitz’s mind is anywhere but where it should be at work the next day. No matter how hard he tries--no matter how many things he busies himself with--the memory of red dresses and tanned skin and emerald irises plague his every thought. It takes much longer to complete the menial work he’s given, and he trips over himself several times when the sudden image of Taako winking at him flashes into his recollection. By the time he makes it home, he is exhausted both mentally and physically. 

 

Kravitz fumbles with his keys (another side-effect from the day’s hardships) and pushes open the door to his apartment. The place is nicer than the average apartment; thanks, in large part, to the estate he was left with. Kravitz keeps it simple, though, to save his pennies; cream walls with hardwood floors, a nice leather couch to the right facing a decent-sized television, an oak dining table he kept from his mother’s home to the left, a few paintings (also from his mother’s home), and a baby-grand piano pushed into the far right corner of the living room. 

 

Kravitz shuts the door behind him, drops his briefcase beside the shoe rack next to the door, and begins untying his loafers. As he does this, a loud caw echoes through the apartment, and Kravitz smiles fondly. Just as he finishes taking off his shoes, a raven flies into view and lands on Kravitz’s awaiting arm. It’s a remarkable-looking bird; with sheen feathers the color of pure midnight and a beak that shines in the light of Kravitz’s apartment. The raven is large, standing proudly at around twenty-two inches, but not heavy-set. It’s beady black eyes stare at Kravitz, with a hidden fondness only a bird-keeper would be able to spot, and Kravitz uses his free hand to scratch the top of the raven’s head. 

 

“Hello, Bernice,” Kravitz coos to the bird, watching with delight as she cocks her head into Kravitz’s touch. “I image you’ve probably had a much better day than I.” The bird crows in response; a low, gurgling croak that means she is content. Kravitz chuckles and adjusts his arm’s position, carrying the bird in a much more comfortable manner. 

 

He walks the short distance to the kitchen, extending his arm so Bernice can hop onto the island counter as Kravitz retrieves her dinner. He pulls out a container of meat (“butcher’s pick”, Kravitz calls it, that consists of essentially the scraps to about every animal that gets put under the knife) and a few carrots and drops the carrots into the sink to wash them. He grabs a tray and begins placing some meat onto it, Bernice watching attentively all the while. Once the meat is arranged and the carrots are washed, Kravitz walks back over to Bernice and places her meal in front of her. She takes to gorging immediately, no longer focusing on Kravitz as she feasts, and Kravitz gives his pet time to eat as he crosses to his piano and settles on the bench. With a crack of his knuckles, Kravitz opens the lid of the baby-grand and begins to play from memory--some songs he learned, some songs he composed--for a good hour. 

 

A knock on the door draws Kravitz from his musical trance, and he quickly gets up to answer it as Bernice caws in the background. 

 

“Bernice, shush, I’m getting it.” Kravitz calls out to his bird as he opens the door. “Hello? How may I--oh hey, Raven.” 

 

Standing in the doorway is one of Kravitz’s oldest friends (a term which Kravitz tends to use when introducing her, putting extra emphasis on the  _ old  _ despite their three-year age difference) Raven. She is an imposing figure, standing a good three or four inches above Kravitz, and she has curly hair that is shaved on the left side, with the remainder of it reaching her shoulders and styled over the right. Her skin is dark, only a shade or so darker than Kravitz, and her eyes are a chocolate-brown. She is covered in piercings; ranging from her septum and upper-lip piercings on her face, to the near dozens of piercings she has along her ears. She is dressed in black leggings, a crimson crop-top emblazoned with the logo of her business, a black leather jacket covered in patches and pins from over the years, and a pair of black combat boots that Raven is rarely seen without. All in all, if you were to look for the word “goth-punk” in the dictionary; you would find Raven’s picture as the definition. 

 

“Kravitz! It’s so good to see you, dear,” Despite the fact that Raven looks like she just walked out of about six Hot Topics  _ and  _ a punk metal concert, she talks in a sophisticated and formal manner. Kravitz smiles and offers his dearest friend a hug, which she accepts gladly, and they both make their way into the apartment. Raven is not even a foot inside before Bernice is up and flying to her, causing Raven to let out a jovial squeak. 

 

“Oh, Bernice! My sweet angel, how are you?” Raven practically sings to the bird now resting comfortably on her arm. “Oh, Kravitz, why won’t you let me bring my girls over? I’m positive Ember would simply  _ adore  _ Bernice’s company.” Raven is a fellow raven-enthusiast with three birds of her own; all girls, named Ember, Cynthia, and Valerie. 

 

“Because, Raven, like I’ve told you a million times before; I can barely handle keeping  _ one _ bird quiet in this apartment. If I had  _ four  _ in here, my super would have me out on the street before the first caw.” Kravitz replies on his way over to the kitchen. He fills a teakettle with water and sets it on the back burner to boil. Raven makes her way over to the kitchen, leaning against the island with Bernice perched on her shoulder. Kravitz works his way around the kitchen, grabbing mugs and selecting tea boxes, and Raven watches him with bemusement.  

 

“ _ So _ .” Raven begins, her smile forming into a smirk, “Your performance was remarkable last night.” 

 

“You were watching?” Kravitz asks, filling one of his infusers with a chamomile blend. It was a fruitless question; Kravitz knows that, as the owner, Raven watches  _ every  _ performance she books at her bar. Primarily because she wants to gauge the crowd’s attention to see if she should hire the performer back, but with Kravitz it’s special. 

 

“Of course, dear; you know I have to see how big of a crowd gets drawn in each night.” Raven replies, her voice smooth and unassuming. “Which wouldn’t matter with you, per se, but it did happen to matter with your  _ co-worker _ .” At the mention of Taako, Kravitz drops the infuser and mutters a curse as he collects the leaves that had fallen out. Raven’s smirk widens. “Oh, Kravitz, you predictable, love-struck fool~” 

 

“L-Love-stru--I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kravitz busies himself with the infuser, knowing that the second he turned around he would be screwed. “He was just another performer, and it was just another Tuesday.” 

 

“Except  _ this  _ performer was wearing a skin-tight satin dress, and  _ this  _ Tuesday you got caught checking him out.” Raven points out, absolutely delighted to watch Kravitz freeze. “Oh, come now, did you honestly think I wouldn’t notice that? We’ve been friends for years, dearie, I think I’d know your type by now.” The whistling of the pot allows Kravitz to not grace that statement with a response, as he grabs the pot and pours the boiling liquid into two mugs. With the tea steeping, Kravitz sighs and turns around. 

 

“It was...a moment of weakness, yes, I will admit that.” Kravitz pointedly ignores the dubious smirk Raven gives him. “ _ But _ , I am not ‘love-struck’, nor am I thinking about it now. He was just another performer--a handsome performer, true--but I honestly doubt I’m ever going to see him again.” Kravitz fiddles with the ends of his dress shirt. “Besides, a man with those looks has to have  _ someone  _ already. I’d be wasting my time.” Raven tuts, pushing herself off the island to grasp Kravitz’s shoulders. 

 

“Kravitz, don’t you  _ ever  _ think of yourself like that,” She says rather seriously. “You are attractive, you are alluring, you are talented and smart and  _ everything  _ a man could ever want. That man would be  _ blessed  _ to have your affections, and don’t you  _ ever  _ think otherwise.” She lets go of Kravitz, walking past him to grab one of the mugs and take a long sip. “You’re right, though, you’ll probably never see him again.” She says it with an airy tone that Kravitz considers dwelling on, but the smell of his tea is much stronger than the urge to figure out what Raven meant; so Kravitz pockets that information for later and, instead, enjoys his tea. 

 

\--- 

 

Ren is dead. 

 

No, not  _ actually  _ dead, but she  _ will  _ be once Taako gets his hands on her; he’s sure of it.  

 

“ _ Sooooo~ _ ” Lup drawls out, causing Taako to groan. 

 

Taako’s sweeping becomes more erratic as he attempts to get as far away from his twin as possible. She’s been on this his case since this morning, when she rudely woke up Taako by shouting, “Who’s the hot boy!?” From there, it’s been a whole day of avoiding topics, skirting around questions, and avoiding close proximity. Which would be manageable if this was a normal day. But today, unfortunately, is  _ not  _ a normal day; and Taako and Lup had already requested off from their respective jobs to do something they’ve been ignoring for weeks now: Cleaning. 

 

More specifically, cleaning the dusty building that would serve as the home to Taako and Lup’s childhood dream: Twin Tastes, the restaurant the two have been dreaming of opening since they prepared their first homemade meal. The dream is just within reach; the location is ideal, the menu is prepared, and the permits are all squared away. Now, all that’s left to do is clean it, renovate it, and stylize the living  _ crap  _ out of it. 

 

Which is why they’re here now, and why Taako can longer run from last night and  _ whatever the hell  _ Ren told Lup.  

 

“Lup, for God’s sake, if I find a single  _ micrometer  _ of that floor not mopped, I am going to shave your hair off tonight, attach it to a stick, and make you mop the floor with it.” Taako says, sweeping the dust into a pile and abandoning it to sweep another section. Lup’s laugh echoes through the empty building, but Taako is satisfied when he hears her place her mop back into the bucket and out onto the floor. 

 

“Can you give me a name, at least?” Lup whines after a five-minute period of silence. “Ren told me how  _ super  _ into him you were, but she left out the name! Come on, Koko,  _ pleaaaaase _ ~?” Taako sighs as he bends down to pick up the dust-pan full of dirt and walks to the garbage can they had set up that morning. Once the dirt’s disposed, Taako waits and ponders on it. “Taako! Please please please please  _ pretty pleeeaaaase _ ??” 

 

“If I give you his name, will you  _ swear on your life  _ that one; you will never bring this up again, and two; you will do the laundry for the next month?”  

 

“What!? No fair! A dude’s name is  _ hardly  _ worth a week of laundry, at  _ most _ \--” 

 

“Month and a half.” 

 

“This ain’t Storage Hunters, Taak. You can’t just keep raising the price--” 

 

“ _ Three _ .” 

 

“...I’ll do one and a half, and throw in three free Keep-Out-No-Questions-Asked passes.” 

 

“Hmmmmm,” 

 

“ _ Four  _ passes?” 

 

“Deal.” 

 

“Yes!” Lup pumps her first in the air, dropping her cleaning supplies to race over to her brother. “Gimme that name!” Taako turns toward Lup in time to evade the playful punch she was about to land on his shoulder. 

 

“It’s Kravitz.” Taako says, smile pulling into a small smirk as he makes his way back over to his stuff. Lup follows, eagerness ablaze in her eyes. 

 

“ _ And _ ?” 

 

“That’s all I know.” Taako says as he grabs his broom and dust-pail and throws them in the duffle bag holding the rest of their cleaning supplies. Lup’s eager look drops to one of confusion, eliciting a small chuckle from Taako as he collects his things. “Now c’mon, Lulu, we gotta go.” Taako grabs Lup’s bag and hands it to her frozen form. 

 

“That’s  _ it _ ?” Lup mutters. Taako laughs again and walks away from his dumbfounded twin. It won’t be long now until the dam breaks. Taako’s strides become longer as he counts down the seconds. 

 

Three. Two. One. 

 

Aaaand… 

 

“YOU SWINDLED ME, YOU LITTLE SHIT!” 

 

Boom goes the dynamite. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amount of research I did on ravens for this chapter was tremendous and entirely necessary.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this and wanna come scream at me about it and/or TAZ in generel, hmu on [my tumblr!!](http://autistic--amethyst.tumblr.com/)


End file.
